Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [126]
But I'd failed at being a simple soldier, too. I hadn't been boasting, I'd acquitted myself well enough during the siege of Lucca, and none of my comrades had cause to complain of me. Still, my fellow soldiers hadn't loved me, either. I didn't have the knack of easy camaraderie that Eamonn did. And in the end, simplicity had evaded me. The Duke of Valpetra had sought me out, bent on vengeance because I'd cut off his hand. I'd survived only because Canis, my mother's willing tool, had given his life for mine.
It seemed like a long time ago.
I found Dorelei gazing out the room's single window, shutters open onto the summer breeze. The window looked inland, and twilight was falling over the green plains. She turned and gave me a swift, halfhearted smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.”
"You weren't." I sat on the bed.
"Do you know what they're about?" she asked.
"No." I smiled wryly. "Oh, I could hazard a guess, which I daresay is why they're not bothering to hide it. It's somewhat to do with the Book of Raziel. Phèdre and Hyacinthe have written back and forth to one another for years on the matter.”
"I didn't know they used to be lovers." Dorelei's voice was nearly inaudible.
"Long ago." There was only a single oil lamp burning low, and the room was growing dark. I found a pair of tallow candles and lit them. "Did your aunt Sibeal tell you? Is she troubled by it?”
"Yes, and no." She watched the candle flames grow, casting shadows. "She said she always knew, that it didn't matter. That what is between them is strong and good, and enough for the both of them. That if he were to betray her, it would never be under their own roof." Her mouth twisted ruefully. "And that love is a complicated business.”
"What of your dreams?" I asked. "Did she know why they've gone silent?”
Dorelei sat on the bed beside me. "Because of you.”
"Me!" I was startled.
"Not at first." She took my hand. "At first it was likely because I was far from home, and …scared. And then, mayhap, because of them" Her lips thinned. "That music you heard, the charmed song. They may have interfered.”
"And now?" I asked.
She traced the threads of red yarn around my wrist. "We see only glimpses, you know. Riddles. Our own fates, or those we love. Those to whom our lives are bound." She was silent a moment. "I saw my father's death when I was eight years old. I didn't understand the dream until it happened.”
"I'm sorry," I said quietly. I knew her father had been killed in a rockslide when she was a child, and she'd always spoken fondly of him. I hadn't known she'd foreseen his death.
"Thank you." Dorelei squeezed my hand. "The thing is, my life is bound to yours now. And you're bound against charms.”
"Harmful ones." I hesitated. "Their magic.”
"It may be it's all of a piece." Her voice dropped again. "I told her what he said, that harpist. That our gift came from their blood. She said it might be true.”
"Well, of a surety, they're obsessed with trying to unravel the future." I took a deep breath and told Dorelei what had transpired with Morwen that day. She listened to me without interrupting, grave and concerned, until I got to the part where I tried to grab the leather bag.
A disbelieving giggle burst from her. She clapped one hand over her mouth and stared at me. "You didn't!”
"I did," I said.
Dorelei's eyes were wide as saucers. "What did she do?”
"Ran." I grinned. "Ran like a rabbit. I wasn't anywhere close to catching her.”
"Are you jesting?" she asked dubiously.
I shook my head. "I wouldn't. Not about this, I promise. But why would she say she wanted me to get her with child? It makes no sense. A month ago, she wanted me to leave Alba and return to Terre d'Ange.”
"A lot may change in a month," Dorelei murmured.
It was my turn to stare. I opened and closed my mouth several times, no doubt looking as dumbstruck as I felt. "Are you …?" I cleared my throat and gestured with my free hand in the vicinity of her belly. The words